


"Your hands are cold."

by InTooManyFandomsRay



Series: 50 DAYS DIALOGUE PROMPTS [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Because im lazy, Boys In Love, Courtship, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), POV Merlin (Merlin), Pining Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Pining Merlin (Merlin), Romance, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but its 3 instead of 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29172045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTooManyFandomsRay/pseuds/InTooManyFandomsRay
Summary: 3 times Arthur made excuses to hold Merlin's hands and the one time Merlin realized why.3+1 because I'm a lazy toad.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: 50 DAYS DIALOGUE PROMPTS [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129253
Comments: 8
Kudos: 306





	"Your hands are cold."

**1.**

Merlin was flipping through Arthur’s wardrobe when Arthur first got the weird instinct. It was almost feral, something uncontrollable inside him. The scene before him was so domestic that it made him want to pull his hair out in frustration. He wanted to do _one_ thing then. Just one.

He wanted to hold Merlin’s hand. And he did exactly that.

He got out of bed and grabbed Merlin’s wrist.

“What? You suddenly realized you can choose your own clothes?” Merlin snorted, shooting him a curious and annoyed look. Arthur gulped, not knowing how to answer. How could he tell his friend that he just _wanted_ to hold his hand, that there was no ulterior motive?

“Shut up, _Mer_ lin,” he grumbled, and removed his hand from Merlin’s wrist, only to hold his hand properly, his ears burning with embarrassment.

Merlin looked at him like he had gone mad, which he was himself beginning to suspect.

“Are you feeling ill, sire? Should I fetch Gaius?” Merlin asked, his other hand immediately on Arthur’s forehead, checking for a fever, no doubt. He noticed that he had not removed his hand from his, and Arthur’s heart did a small victory dance.

‘I’m turning into a girl. Brilliant,’ he thought to himself.

“No! I’m just... Uhm,” Arthur racked around his brain, trying to come up with an excuse. Merlin raised an eyebrow, which made him look suspiciously like Gaius.

“Your hands are too rough,” he managed to stutter. He was sure his face was burning, as he dropped Merlin’s hand quickly and walked to his desk. What the hell was he thinking? Stupid feelings, stupid instincts, stupid brain, stupid everything-

“Not everyone has the privilege of having servants at their beck and call, unlike you,” Merlin snapped, annoyance and confusion tinging his voice. “Sire.”

“Whatever, Merlin. That’ll be all,” Arthur grumbled, still not looking at his manservant. The door slammed a few moments later which only increased the growing guilt in his chest. His hand felt cold, and he hated himself for missing the warmth of Merlin’s hand in his own. He did not miss the rightness he felt. And he definitely did not think about how it felt like his hand belonged in the blue-eyed servant's hands.

**2.**

“Merlin, you’re supposed to _hold_ the sword, not dig the ground with it. Or have you mistaken it for a plow again?” Arthur teased his manservant, who glared daggers at him. He was trying to teach Merlin to fight, so he was not left defenseless if bandits attacked, or if, god forbid, another kingdom attacked. Of course, he would protect him, there was no doubt about it. Still, it would calm Arthur’s heart to know that Merlin could hold his own in a case of emergency.

“I’ve never held a sword in my life, Arthur, what do you expect?” Merlin snapped back, the sword slipping through his fingers again, this time barely missing his foot. Arthur sighed, and struck his own sword in the ground. He walked to Merlin and got behind him.

“What’re you doing?” Merlin stammered, turning around, but Arthur held his shoulders and firmly held him to his position, the brunette's back to his chest. There was no need for this intimate position, Arthur knew, but he wouldn’t miss a single opportunity to get close to Merlin. He found the contact rather pleasing.

So he wound his arms around Merlin and felt him stiffen against his chest. There was barely an inch’s gap between them anymore, and yet, he was confident that Merlin could hear his heart thudding loudly.

He held Merlin’s hands from the back and guided his fingers to the hilt of the sword. Trying desperately to ignore the warmth seeping into his body, and other places, which was extremely inappropriate at the moment, he gripped the sword hard, their fingers intertwined only in a way that was more than intimate. He stayed there for longer than was necessary, and he noticed how Merlin had gone extremely quiet at the contact. He cherished the feeling of holding Merlin’s hands, however short-lived it may be.

“There, see, that’s how you hold it,” he murmured, his lips brushing Merlin’s ears. A shudder passed through his servant's body and Arthur stepped back, letting the cool air flow between them again. His heart threatened to tear out. If there was any doubt previously regarding how he felt for Merlin, it was wiped away now.

He was in love with his oblivious manservant.

**3.**

It was a cold winter’s night, and a terrible time to pick to go hunting. Clearly, it didn’t stop Arthur from ordering a hunt though. He knew Merlin would tag along, as always, and he had was almost always cold. Arthur figured it must be from the lack of meat on his bones. His ravenous appetite did not show on his body.

So there they were, huddled under the tree for warmth. Merlin had managed to start a fire quickly. It was another of his mysterious abilities, Arthur realized. No matter what the weather was, or where they were, Merlin always succeeded in making the warmest fire.

‘Including the fire in my heart, stupid manservant and his stupid talents,’ Arthur grumbled on the inside, glad that mind-reading was not one of Merlin's talents.

Speaking of, he shot a look towards the said manservant, who was shivering clearly, his mouth snapped shut to avoid the chattering of his teeth.

An idea formed in Arthur’s mind, and a perfect excuse. “Merlin?”

His head shot up, looking at Arthur, waiting for further instructions no doubt. Arthur grinned, hoping it looked friendly and not like a shark, “Come here.”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed as he shook his head, “No, you’re just gonna hit me.”

“Don’t be such a girl, _Merlin_. I’m not going to hit you. Just come here, will you?”

Still looking suspicious, Merlin shifted towards Arthur, who held out his hands.

“You’re shivering, Merlin. Give me your hands.”

“Why?”

“Because they must be cold.”

“So?”

“My hands are warm enough, so give me your hands.”

“No.”

Arthur sighed dramatically, “ _Merlin_.”

“…Okay,” Merlin said, the creases on his forehead disappearing softly, and a fond look taking over his features. Arthur gulped. He was absolutely beautiful, and it should be illegal to be that beautiful.

Merlin placed his hands in Arthur’s, who immediately enclosed them, rubbing circles with his thumb and rubbing his palm along the back of Merlin’s hand. A content sigh escaped Merlin’s lips, who seemed to be lost in the moment. His eyes were closed, and he had stopped shivering. Arthur took his time gazing at the person he was pining for.

The moonlight lit a part of his face, and his dark locks and high cheekbones gave him an ethereal look. If Arthur didn’t know better, he’d have called Merlin a Fae. But that was stupid. There was no way his clumsy, idiot manservant was a sorcerer.

They stayed that way the whole night and fell asleep there, Arthur holding Merlin’s hands in his own, both blissfully aware of the proximity and unaware of what it meant. Arthur would give anything to keep that moment frozen in time.

**+1**

Merlin was having a field day. Or a field month. Whatever it was called. Firstly, Arthur was being _nice_ to him. He almost suspected that Arthur was under an enchantment, but that was quickly crushed because no matter how nice Arthur was being towards him, it did not stop the young Prince from calling him an insolent, incorrigible, useless toad of a servant.

Then there were the touches. The occasional lingering of hands on his shoulders, and the way his eyes seemed to gaze at him when he thought Merlin wasn’t looking. Merlin didn’t dare get his hopes up. It was too good to be true.

Except for one day, Arthur knocked on Gaius’s door. When Merlin opened, Arthur stood there, gaping at him like a fish, and blushing till the tips of his ears. He was holding something behind his back, and he had actually managed to wear one of his finer red tunics, the one with the gold borders.

Arthur was trying to impress someone.

And Merlin didn’t know who, but it left a sinking feeling in his chest.

“Merlin! Good, you’re here,” Arthur said, sounding out of breath. Merlin opened the door wider and stepped aside, allowing the blonde to come in. He tried peeking at whatever Arthur was holding, but the other man was determined to keep it out of his sight.

“What’s behind your back?” Merlin asked, his eyebrow shooting up in a scary impression of Gaius.

“Well,” Arthur stammered. “it’s for you.”

He brought his hand forward. Tulips. Arthur had got him tulips.

“Thank you?” Merlin said, taking the flowers. He placed them on the table and turned back towards Arthur. To say he was confused would be an understatement. Why would Arthur give him tulips?

He opened his mouth, to ask exactly that when he noticed the Prince’s outstretched hand. Tentatively, Merlin placed his hand in Arthur’s, unsure of where he was going with this.

“Arthur, what had gotten into you? Seriously, are you pranking me-”

He was cut off with a soft sensation on the top of his knuckles. He gasped, looking at Arthur peering at him from under his lashed, head bent as he placed a tender kiss to his hand. Suddenly, the pieces clicked in his mind.

Oh.

He scrambled through his mind to form a coherent reply. His realization must’ve shown on his face, as Arthur blushed harder.

“Is your sight getting worse, sire? You missed my mouth by a good few inches,” he stuttered and then cursed himself silently. But apparently, that was the right thing to say because the next thing he knew, Arthur was grinning from ear to ear, and wrapping an arm around him, pulling him close.

“May I?” he asked, his mouth hovering just above Merlin’s, waiting for permission. Merlin gave a small sound of distress.

“Of course, you stupid-”

Arthur was kissing him. Merlin was sure that if it weren’t for Arthur holding him, he would’ve been a pool of melted warlock on the floor. Oh, wait, the warlock thing.

They parted, gasping for breath, foreheads pressed together. Merlin bumped his nose against Arthur. “So, I guess I should tell you my secret.”

Arthur laughed lightly, placing a soft kiss on his lips again, “I already know your secret, _Mer_ lin. You’re terrible at hiding things from me.”

“So you know about my magic?”

“What!?”

“So you don’t know… okay, bye!” Merlin untangled himself from Arthur’s arms, who stood there gaping at him and ran out the door.

“MERLIN!!!” Arthur’s yell echoed through the corridor. Merlin smiled. They would be fine.


End file.
